


No Substitute For Bed Rest

by ruff_ethereal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:06:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6826639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/pseuds/ruff_ethereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>However much Dr. Ziegler's "Caduceus" technology has revolutionized the field of medical technology, there is just no substitute for bed rest. </p><p>Hana attempts to convince her otherwise.</p><p>Keyword "attempts."</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Substitute For Bed Rest

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies to any medical professionals, I tried to mimic an actual, professional doctor's manner of speech as best as I could.

“Come on, doc!” Hana (AKA “D.Va”) whined as she sat on the examination table. “I need to get back into the field, ASAP! Can't you just use your special healing staff on me? Isn't that what you _invented_ it for?”

“No, you do not; yes, I could, but I will not; and no, I did not invent a cutting-edge breakthrough in medical technology to make sure that people like you can keep making new videos for their 'channels' as soon as possible,” Dr. Angela Ziegler (AKA “Mercy”) replied.

“ _Then what was the point?!”_ Hana whined.

Angela glared at her. “Oh, I don't know: saving the lives of victims of war and violent crises? People who would probably die in minutes, if not _seconds_ if they had to rely on traditional medical evacuation and treatment? Keeping whiny brats like you alive on the battlefield so you may carp and complain another day?”

Hana winced, and shrank back. Angela shot her one more dirty look, before she examined her diagnosis and vitals on the tablet in her hand.

With thanks to her caduceus staff, timely use of all the “health kits” based off its technology, and the MEKA suit she had spent most of the mission piloting, Hana had not suffered quite as many vicious bullet wounds or other types of grievous, combat-based injuries as the others she'd seen that day, but her body had still taken quite the beating, and nature had just not designed human beings to heal properly and completely within seconds, even with nanobiology.

It was a limitation that she could never find a way around, one she hated with a dear passion, one that she would just have to accept and work with until someone more brilliant than her came along and solved the problem.

Till then, she'd continue to treat Overwatch agents in the infirmary after every mission.

Angela looked up from her tablet. “You are only suffering several bruises and moderate blunt trauma in several locations all over your body, but these are _after_ everything that had been treated on the battlefield or during our return to base. I _strongly_ advise bed rest, limiting your physical activity, and avoiding anything particularly strenuous like lifting heavy weights, extended aerobic exercise, and piloting MEKAs, getting shot at, and risking life and limb for say… one to two weeks?”

Hana balked. “Two weeks?! That's _way_ too long! I'll lose thousands—no, _tens_ of thousands of subscribers if I don't post a new video for that long!”

“Oh? And what will happen, they will find themselves no longer interested in your violent exploits, and shift their attention to a YouTube channel that uploads silly videos of a pug dog dressed up in ridiculous costumes?”

“ _Exactly,”_ Hana replied.

Angela paused for a moment, debating explaining that that was a joke, but decided against it.

“The crowds today have the attention span of a five year old with ADHD, doc,” Hana explained. “You gotta keep them entertained, all hours of the day, or you lose 'em forever.”

Angela huffed. “This sounds like a terrible audience—why would you even want the attention of a people with such tenuous allegiance?”

Hana grinned. “That's the fun of it, doc—you can keep 'em, they're going to be the most devoted, the most adoring, and the most _ferociously_ loyal people you will ever meet. But only if you work hard and give as much back, which is why I need you to use your staff on me again so I can get back into the field!”

Angela rolled her eyes. “Bed rest, don't move much, no MEKA piloting,” she repeated.

“What'll it take, doc?” Hana asked. “Is it money? I've got money— _lots_ of money!”

Angela chuckled. “You assume I passed on the royalties to my technology, and that Overwatch has not given me a _more_ than generous series of assets for my eventual retirement?”

“Is it fame? I can mention you on my channel! Dedicate an _entire_ episode to how awesome you are! Give you all the publicity you could ever want for your tech, your charities, your cat if you have one—whatever it is you want!”

“Seeing as how every hospital and clinic has a caduceus device or a healthy stock of 'health kits' derived from it? No thank you. A 'Let's Play' channel also seems like the wrong sort of media exposure.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?!” Hana cried. “There's _millions_ of people who'd kill for the opportunity to show up on my channel! And that's not even a live appearance, or even have your face on camera!”

Angela leaned in and smiled. “Unfortunately for you, I am not part of them.”

Hana scowled. “Alright, doc; I didn't want to do this, but you've forced me to use my last resort!”

Angela leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “And that would be...?”

Hana smiled mischievously, brushing her hair with her hand and letting a few stray strands fall in front of her. “What a _lot_ more than millions of people would kill for...” she purred as she slid back on the examination table.

Angela watched as she grabbed the bottom of the pink paper gown she was wearing, pulling it up and revealing her legs, little by little. She bit her lip as she saw those finely toned muscles, not a blemish to be found on her skin.

“Ms. Song, this is incredibly unprofessional,” Angela said slowly, keeping her voice level and calm.

“Don't think I haven't seen the way you look at me, doc,” Hana purred as she pulled her legs up from over the edge. “I know you love seeing me in my jumpsuit—and I know you've always wanted to see me _without_ it.”

Angela hadn't, she didn't, and she never wanted to. But as she stood there watching, feeling her cheeks steadily turn red, she found her changing her mind in a hurry.

Hana pulled her dress all the way up to her waist. Angela could see her panties—mint green, with a picture of a cartoon bunny head right on the very center.

“You know what to do,” she purred, planting her hands behind her as she arched her back, thrusting her chest towards Angela. “Just grab that staff of yours, and--”

She was cut short as her hands slipped right over the edge of the examination table. Gravity took over, she fell and crashed onto her back at an angle that wasn't at risk of serious spinal injury but _definitely_ painful, and proceeded to let loose a string of Korean and English curses that was both impressive and worrying.

She moaned in pain as Angela helped her back up. “Bed rest, don't move much, no MEKA piloting, or trying to seduce me for the next two weeks, alright?” She said, a smug smirk on her face.

Hana nodded as she rubbed at one of the many extremely sore spots on her back and the rest of her body. “Yes, doc...”

“Good girl,” Angela said, before reaching into her pocket and handing Hana a lollipop.

With a resigned look, she swiped it out of her hands, tore off the plastic, and stuck it into her mouth.

If it was any consolation, it was a _really_ good lollipop.


End file.
